


no colours in our skin; till we let the spectrum in

by wcdewilsonn (oceanboys)



Series: Star Trek Songfic and Poetryfic [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (sort of?? It is and it isn't), Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom James T. Kirk, Bottom Jim, Bottom Kirk, Colours, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Pining, Rimming, Synesthesia, Top Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Top McCoy, abominable use of Italics YET AGAIN, god these boys are in love and it's killing me, my writing is pretentious and so am I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 09:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanboys/pseuds/wcdewilsonn
Summary: Lately, Jim’s golds had started splotching with a vibrant lilac, giving Leonard pause the first time it had happened. He had stood there, staring at Jim, until Jim called his name with a small smile and raised eyebrow. He had blushed once again, and said something about a medical checkup, before storming right off the bridge again, completely forgetting what he had originally went to do. He hadn’t seen Jim at all, really, since then, and he was vaguely glad for it; Leonard was sure he’d be caught staring again, and no good could come of that.Or; the one where McCoy sees colours.





	no colours in our skin; till we let the spectrum in

**Author's Note:**

> Another one for the songfic and poetryfic. Based off the song from Florence + The Machine, "Spectrum (Say My Name)".  
>  _Say my name_  
>  _And every color illuminates_  
>  _We are shining_  
>  _And we will never be afraid again_
> 
> Enjoy !! Please leave a comment and kudos below :)

Leonard McCoy was an extraordinary man. He was a brilliant surgeon – no procedure was too difficult or convoluted for him to understand or undertake, no anatomy or biology too strange or different. He was a medical genius; he had finished medical school early, obtaining a medical degree along with two PhDs, and later, after his divorce, went on to become, arguably, the best surgeon in Starfleet. _Legendary hands_ , they had said. He was a man whom had a great deal of respect for all forms of life, and took his oath seriously, distributing medical care to all who needed it, regardless of who they were or what his personal thoughts of him. He was an extremely selfless and empathetic man, old-fashioned in his ways, but utterly accepting.

 

Leonard McCoy also happened to see people in colours.

 

It never came up. Not in the many years he spent in medical school, nor the time he was married to Joycelyn, not even during his Starfleet career. Hell, it hadn’t even been a thing discussed when he was a young child, with his father’s deep green and blue twists and swirls, and his mother’s lime splotches of colour. He hadn’t even realised it wasn’t something everyone experienced until he was reading over his psychology textbook in medical school, almost twenty-three years later, and came across the term.

 

 _Synaesthesia_.

 

Leonard didn’t mention it, even after he had worked out he was wired different. After all, it didn’t affect the way he treated patients, or impede his ability to conduct surgery or treatment. It was just a mixed-up sensory association. Nothing more.

 

\--

 

Quiet days like these always set Leonard on edge. Nothing damned good could come from a _quiet_ day on the Enterprise, not when usually, _ordinarily_ , everything was chaos. Additionally, Jim hadn’t been in medbay for a good week and a half – a new record – as they were mapping an unexplored solar system just a little off from a large Class Six nebula. Leonard hated to admit that he missed Jim’s golden and marigold colours as they burst bright amongst the other staff and crew in medbay, how even in its busiest moments, Jim was still the most luminescent of them all.

 

Leonard grumbles half-heartedly when he feels a traitorous blush warm his cheeks. Lately, thinking about Jim did that, and Leonard isn't fool enough to not know what it means. He's in love with the blue-eyed idiot, and progressively finds his thoughts drifting more and more to Jim during his idle moments, more so than they previously did, which was quite a lot, even way back at the Academy, when they had first met. There was something about Jim that from day one had Leonard enraptured and caught, unable to go too long without his thoughts turning to his best friend. It didn’t help that they were roommates, drinking mates, class mates, best mates. They were inseparable; Leonard orbiting around the dazzling sun of Jim Kirk.

 

Lately, Jim’s golds have started splotching with a vibrant lilac, giving Leonard pause the first time it had happened. He had stood there, staring at Jim, until Jim called his name with a small smile and raised eyebrow. He had blushed once again, and said something about a medical checkup, before storming right off the bridge again, completely forgetting what he originally went to do. He hasn't seen Jim at all, really, since then, and he's vaguely glad for it; Leonard was sure he’d be caught staring again, and no good could come of that. Any hope for reciprocation from Jim was lost the moment he became captain of the Enterprise, taking his new roles and responsibilities more serious than he had ever during the Academy. Jim wouldn’t go for him, not even if he didn’t have fraternisation rules to keep to – Leonard was an old country doctor who was still bitter five years after his divorce. Jim would be crazy to want someone like him. Besides, there were plenty other people lining themselves up at James T. Kirk’s door, and all of them were a hell of a lot more desirable than Leonard.

 

A throat clearing itself jumps Leonard out of his brooding, his left hand shooting out to catch the side of the medical biobed he’s standing in front of, the other clenching his PADD hard. Leonard turns to see Jim leaning on a bare wall not far from where Leonard is, eyebrow raised and half-smirk present on his handsome face. Rivulets of gold and lilac swirl around him, wrapping around his neck down to his arms, twisting between his chest and waist. Jim’s blue eyes twinkle with mischief as he surveys his CMO.

 

“Lost in thought?” He teases.

 

“More like planning what I’ll have to do for your next round in my Medbay,” Leonard grumbles back, earning a loud, genuine laugh out of Jim, his colours pulsing brightly.

 

“I haven’t even gotten injured, yet, Bones!” is the quip back, Jim’s smirk melting into a soft smile. “Not for a good week!”

 

“Which means it’s close enough comin’, then,” rolling his eyes, Leonard ignores the way his insides warm at the given nickname, and how his heart hastens at Jim’s smile. “Get in, personal office it is, kid. Your checkup is well-passed due.”

 

The returning snort from Jim is good-natured as he wanders into Leonard’s office. Leonard gives himself a minute to steel himself and allow his heart to recover, before following in after Jim. Jim’s already sat on top the biobed in his office, swinging his legs back and forth and patiently waiting for Leonard. Despite all his bitching and moaning about the medical bay and routine checkups, Jim settles calmly in Leonard’s care, something Leonard himself is exceedingly smug about. It took almost all the first two years of the Academy, but Jim finally allowed himself to relax around doctors and medical situations – even if it is only around Leonard, a fact that makes him feel oddly possessive.

 

The checkup goes smoothly, Leonard doesn’t even stutter when Jim’s shirt comes off, now steadily in professional mode, and Jim keeps his childish whining about medical to himself. It’s mostly just for show, anyway, but Jim must sense that something is off about Leonard’s current mood, and doesn’t hassle or bicker like usual. This, somehow, is even worse. It makes Leonard feel like he’s being analysed, and while Jim may be no Vulcan, the kid is highly intelligent and give him enough time, Leonard’s sure Jim’ll figure what’s up.

 

“All clear, apart from tense muscles.” Leonard says finally, breaking the thirty-minute silence that had commenced the moment he walked in. “Too much damn stress. You been getting headaches?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Leonard huffs. “That’s why, dumbass. You’re meant to come to me before it gets this bad, y’know.”

 

Jim smiles, tilting his head. “I just think you want an excuse to see me, Bonesy.”

 

Leonard’s breath hitches, freezing. He watches Jim’s colours swirl about restlessly, pulsing and quivering, even going as far to almost brush up where Leonard’s fingers curl into the biobed’s padding near Jim’s thigh. Shit. _Too long, too long_. He’s paused too long, he knows it, _Jim_ knows it, eyebrow’s pulling together and head cocking slightly, those icy blue eyes piercing into Leonard’s shocked – or panicked, depending on how you viewed it – gaze. _Shit. Shit, shit shit_ he needs to say something before it becomes too obvious and –

 

“Don’t be stupid – hell would I want you lurking about my medbay?” Leonard turns sharply away. Grumbling, “And don’t call me that.”

 

He pretends to focus on his computer screen on his desk, all of Jim’s readings flickering on the screen. He’s reciting them to himself in his head, trying to calm himself down – _cranium fine, neural and psychological checks all clear; clavicle and scapula still slightly off-centred as healing process from last month’s injury still continues; upper and lower appendages are fine; reflexes fine; ribs show no signs of cracks, brushing, or breakage; hormones are steady; resting heartrate at 85bpm; blood pressure 118/79 mmHg – higher than most Human personnel on board due to diet, probably; eyes and ears are in peak condition; blood oxygen levels at_ –

 

“So, I’m free to go?” Jim asks. Leonard nods, still not looking at Jim.

 

“Yeah, we’re all done here,” he replies, before pausing when Jim’s at the door. “Wait, hold on, take these.”

 

Leonard hands Jim a kit with five hypos in them, and three refills, a small tab of instructions attached.

 

“Take half a capsule after your shift when you go to your quarters, and half before you go to sleep. It should help to ease some of the tension you’re carrying in your muscles, which should then help to alleviate your headaches.”

 

Jim flashes him a bright smile, his lilac’s bubbling even brighter. “Thanks, Bones! What would I do without you?” He’s laughing, pushing it all off as some joke, but those eyes are running over Leonard, assessing him.

 

Leonard swallows, glances away, before looking at the tip of Jim’s ear, avoiding eye contact. “On this tin can? Prolly be dead by now, kid.” He says, rolling his eyes, ignoring the flash of heat and panic rolling through his stomach. Jim laughs again, throwing him a goodbye before he leaves, Leonard’s office door sliding shut after him.

 

\--

 

Jim seems to continuously turn up after that. He schedules his breaks around Leonard, drags Leonard off to the mess if he notices that Leonard’s clocking long hours, and turns up at Leonard’s quarters more often than usual, which is saying something considering the two of them are best friends, and thicker than thieves. Jim even starts inviting Leonard to watch his matches against Spock, though Leonard absolutely refuses to join in, no matter how many times Jim hassles him or how often Spock says he’d find it fascinating (Spock’s deep oranges that simmer slowly around his form flick out when he says this – which leads Leonard to believe that Spock thinks the idea of versing Leonard to be amusing. Unsurprisingly, Leonard is not amused). He’s not a masochist.

 

Despite the fact that he _knows_ Jim’s gotten whiff of something, the increased time spent with the blonde bombshell is nice. Leonard genuinely enjoys Jim’s company, and not just because he’s madly in love with the kid. Jim’s funny, he’s kind, and he’s so fucking smart that sometimes Leonard wonders if his medical degree is really worth anything. Even when they sit in silence, he’s happy. Jim’s the kind of person Leonard can drink with, talk with, laugh with, and file reports together in silence with.

 

So when Jim silently increases how much time he spends alongside Leonard, the doctor simply compartmentalises, and strategically ignores it. If it means he clamps down on those pesky feelings of his, or jacks off at night at a much higher frequency, well. He’s the only one who knows.

 

\--

 

It all comes to head one night after Leonard’s been released from medbay. He’d been beamed down with Spock and a few other members of the crew to assist in a medical emergency from a colonised planet. Everything had gone well until the planet’s hostile rebels, seeing the Starfleet crew as a corrupting influence, began firing at them. Leonard had been lucky to get away with phaser to the shoulder and abdomen, as well as several cuts from flying debris and rock – several other crewmembers that had beamed down were now dead. He remembers colours; _god_ , so many fucking _colours_ , all grey and black from the rebels, and the red and bright yellow of panic and pain and others, and Spock’s oranges, bright and fiery and burning, as the stoic Vulcan left and the Commander settled in, and the blues, green, fuck, the teals and pinks and bright pastel pinks and –

 

 _So much for the quiet_ , he thinks. Today was just another reminder that space exploration and Starfleet careers aren’t as glorified as they’re cracked up to be. His body is sore and aching, even after his trip down to medical, and he’s _tired_ ; two days of medical leave and he _knows_ he’ll still have to sign off on the medical reports of the deceased crewmen. God, how he doesn’t want to deal with that. Twenty-two years of medicine and patients, and Leonard still isn’t used to the death that comes with being a doctor, still not used to signing off yet another form confirming a crewman’s death and cause of death. He pities Jim for being the one to inform the families.

 

Leonard sighs, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck in the process, padding over to the replicator and tapping an order for a herbal tea. He wants to drink tonight, wants to pass into the blank bliss of an alcohol-fuelled sleep, but refrains. He’s not that kind of man anymore.

 

The _bing_ from his door indicates that someone’s asking access. Leonard frowns, ready to curse out whoever is bothering him now.

 

“Who is it?” He calls, knowing the computer will put it through to the stereo-panel outside his quarters.

 

“It’s me, Bones.”

 

Leonard almost inhales his tea up his nose, coughing and spluttering. God. He doesn’t think he can handle Jim tonight, not with how exhausted he is, he’s not going to be able to keep himself under wraps. But… he’s lonely, oddly enough, and miserable enough that he knows being without company isn’t a good idea. And if anyone will understand how he feels right now, it’ll be Jim. Another sigh, and he tells the computer to let Jim in.

 

Jim walks in, body weary, and focuses on Leonard. His colours are muted today, pulsing weakly, and a flash of bright, sickly yellow has seeped into the normal cocktail of hues. It sets Leonard on edge. He’s never really paid attention to what the colours mean, sort of assumed it was just his mind’s way of cataloguing and recognising people, but the yellows look ugly against Jim’s usual colours, and he _knows_ it’s not meant to be there, it’s not _Jim_.

 

“You okay?” he asks, and Jim huffs.

 

“Think I’m meant to be asking you that,” Jim replies, a murmur just loud enough for Leonard to hear. He walks closer, coming to lean against the wall next to the replicator where Leonard is standing at. “How are you holding up?”

 

“I’m fine.” He is, really. Give him a day or two and he’ll be back to normal. Or, at least, the taste of blood and metal won’t be so strong in his mouth anymore. “Just a little sore. Nothing –” he raises his voice, interrupting Jim as he opens his mouth to direct Leonard back to medbay. “Nothing exceedingly dire, it’s just a few lingering aches.”

 

Jim lets a _whuff_ of air out his nose, eyebrows pulled up in concern, his blue eyes focused solely on Leonard.

 

“I was worried, you know. When we got the message about shit hitting the fan.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Thought-“ Jim’s voice cracks, and _oh_ , that’s interesting. “Thought you were dead. Never have been keen on the self-defence thing.”

 

“I’m a doctor,” Leonard mutters. “Not a butcher. I took an oath, Jim, and one I don’t take lightly. I don’t kill, ever.”

 

“I know.” It’s a mirrored version of Leonard’s, and he can’t help but smile at the blonde man in front of him.

 

“Smartass.” He says, smile tugging at his mouth.

 

“You love me,” Jim grins, eyes flashing.

 

Leonard breath catches, and _god_ , it’s like that day in medical bay all over again, Jim’s careful gaze trained on him, Leonard feeling like a deer in the headlights, caught in the assessment of Jim’s beautiful, crazy, brilliant mind and _fuck_ , Jim’s eyes flick down to Leonard’s lips as he licks them. A nervous habit left over from childhood.

 

“Jim,” it’s meant to sound like a warning, but it comes out far more breathy and desperate than he’d like.

 

“I do, too,” Jim says, and fuck, he steps closer, colours suddenly flashing and coming alive again. The yellow’s still there, but distant, fading. “Love you, I mean. I do. Have for a while, since the Academy.” Another step, and another hitch in Leonard’s breath. “And I think you do, too.”

 

Jim’s right in front of him now, taking the cup of tea from him and placing it back onto the metal plate in the replicator. His eyes are beautiful, _fuck_ , he’s all beautiful, from his colours to his hair to the rush of pink in his cheeks, to the hand that comes up to cup his cheek – _oh god_ , that’s his hand cupping Leonard’s cheek.

 

“Bones?” Jim asks. “Bones, I hope you’re not freaking out on me or anything. I don’t need you to have a heart attack on me, old man. I –“

 

Leonard cuts Jim off, slotting their lips together. Jim opens up immediately for him, tongue sliding in to curl and twist around Leonard’s, eyes fluttering shut. Leonard’s own are half-closed, wanting to keep them open to make sure this is real, that this isn’t a dream. His hands raise to tangle in Jim’s hair, Jim’s left and otherwise unoccupied hand coming to rest on his hips, squeezing and pulling Leonard impossibly closer. They kiss, devouring each other until the need for air becomes too great, parting only millimetres away, Jim’s breath licking his face and open mouth.

 

“Fuck, you’re a hell of a kisser, kid,” Leonard rumbles, watches as Jim’s eyes dilate. Jim bites his lip, pretty pink lips squashed under white teeth, and Leonard loses it, pulling Jim back in and kissing him hungrily, making up for all those times he’s wanted to slip his tongue in and own those lips. Every argument, every laugh, every arrogant grin or genuine smile – each and every single time Leonard has ever wanted to step forward and kiss Jim goes into this one, a hand slipping down from Jim’s hair to palm at his ass.

 

Jim moans, wantonly, and throws his head back. Leonard immediately reattaches his lips to Jim’s pretty throat, sucking and biting wet kisses into the skin, marking Jim well above where the uniform collar will sit. Marking Jim. God, all this time, all this wait and finally Jim is _his_ , _his_ to fuck, _his_ to mark, _his_ to kiss, _his_ to love and cherish and adore and _keep_ until the end of time. It sends a shiver down Leonard’s spine, he’s dizzy with excitement. His hand grips Jim’s hair a little harder, and Jim groans, hips thrusting forward into Leonard’s, and their cocks line up, sending fizzes of white pleasure. Leonard gasps, and pulls back, grabbing the bottom of Jim’s tunics and lifting, tossing them off when Jim lifts his arms. Jim’s lilacs and golds curl around his entire body – there doesn’t seem to be a single inch of skin where the stuff doesn’t pulse from him.

 

“Yours too,” Jim croaks, gesturing at his black undershirt. Leonard flashes Jim a dangerous smirk, and strips off the shirt, before hooking a finger into the band of Jim’s too-tight pants, and reeling him in. Jim follows with a laugh, gold pulsing, and runs his hands down Leonard’s lean body, thumbing as a nipple. Leonard surges back in to kiss him, flicking open the magnetic seal of Jim’s pants, and sliding a hand in, gripping Jim’s cock and listening to the load groan Jim gives him, his own cock throbbing in sympathy.

 

“Fuck, okay, bed. _Bed_.” Jim says, herding Leonard into his own bedroom, kicking off his boots and sliding out of his pants and underwear along the way. Jim pushes Leonard back, hard, and he falls back onto the bed, bouncing once, twice, before watching as Jim stoops slightly to pull of his socks, hard cock bouncing with the movement. Leonard slips a hand down to palm himself, catching Jim’s eye and slowly undoing his own pants. Jim falls to his knees and crawls over, pulling Leonard’s own boots and socks off, before tugging on Leonard’s slacks and undergarments, almost ripping them off in his haste.

 

Leonard’s cock springs up from its confines, standing hard and tall, and he moans when Jim fondles the head, turning into a drawn-out groan when Jim takes the member into his mouth, sucking hard and fondling his large balls. He shivers at the sensations, at the slick, warm heat of Jim’s mouth, as those pink cocksucker lips stretch around his cock and Jim’s brilliant blue eyes gaze up adoringly at him. Fuck, the man was made to be on his knees, sucking cock like he was trained for it.

 

Leonard’s stomach flutters, and he pulls Jim up by the shoulders and letting an involuntary groan of disapproval at the loss of Jim’s mouth around his cock. But that’s fine, because he has other ideas. He leans forward to fuck his tongue into Jim’s mouth, tasting his own precum, and moves to nip Jim’s right ear.

 

“Get on the bed, and lie on your stomach,” he murmurs, biting it again just to hear Jim moan. Jim nods, and crawls over his lap, cocks brushing briefly against each other, drawing simultaneous gasps from both men, and positions himself on his stomach, legs spread, his ass hiked high into the air – fucking _presenting_ himself. Leonard growls and pounces forward, spreading Jim’s asscheeks and shoving his face between them, nipping, sucking, and licking at that pink, furrowed hole. The resounding high whine from Jim is considered a success in Leonard’s mind, and he sets out to make Jim fall apart.

 

He noses his way in further, licking and teasing at the hole. Jim’s whining and moaning continuously, pushing back against Leonard’s slick tongue, hands fisted in the bedsheets, head shoved in the pillows in a desperate attempt to muffle the noises he’s making. Leonard breathes in the scent of sweat and masculine mask, as he continues to kiss and tongue at Jim’s hole, coaxing it to relax and open, before he slips his tongue inside Jim’s ass, curling and twitching just inside Jim’s walls. Jim wails, long and high and loud, and thank _fuck_ all personal quarters on the Enterprise are soundproof because Leonard’s sure they’d hear him all the way in Engineering otherwise.

 

“Please,” fuck, Jim’s begging. Leonard resumes his task more passionately, wanting Jim to fucking _break down_ and beg for his cock. “Fuck, _please_ , Bones, please I need more, I fucking – _a-ah!_ Fuck! Oh right there, _godgodgod_ right there, fuck. _C’mon_ , give me your cock dammit!”

 

Leonard surges away from Jim’s ass, panting hard, and grabbing for the lube located in his bedside drawer. He covers four fingers generously – Jim’ll need it, Leonard isn’t exactly _small_ , per se – and leans across Jim’s back, fingers trailing and teasing at his entrance, cock rubbing tantalisingly on the back on Jim’s thigh. He couldn’t see them before, but Jim’s colours are absolutely _pulsing_ , his golds infused with purple – or is it the other way around – and splotches of rose-like reds are scattered between. It hovers over Jim, under Jim, pouring out of every crook and crevice in Jim’s body, and _fuck_ , if he isn’t beautiful. Away from the erotic emotions of the moment, Jim is breathtaking, and Leonard knows that sex or no, Jim is something gorgeous and to be cherished.

 

He plunges two lubed fingers into Jim’s ass.

 

Unsurprisingly, they’re met with little pain or discomfort; Leonard knows Jim has an impressive collection of dildos and other toys, _knows_ that Jim would have been utilising them through the long years on board a starship, with only his hand as company. Two fingers are nothing for Jim first up, and so Leonard slowly scissors and stretches Jim’s hole, listening to Jim’s breathy pants and gasps, and his wanton moan when Leonard presses against Jim’s prostate, and then his taint with a free hand. Leonard grins. Best hands in the ‘Fleet for sure.

 

Lilac bursts every time Leonard hits Jim’s prostate, and pulses when he adds another finger, stretching out Jim even more for his cock. He’d take even longer, take his time to drive Jim wild, but he’s not that patient right now, not when Jim is pushing back and demanding for Leonard to get on with it. Another time, maybe. He can tease another time. His fourth finger joins the third, and he works them all into Jim’s hole, licking a trail of sweat from the top of one shoulder blade to the other, kissing tenderly at the side of his throat. Jim hums and tilts his head to give Leonard more access, so he sucks another bruise into the skin, twisting and stretching Jim as he goes.

 

“Bones…” Jim’s muttered, breathy complaint reaches him, and he smiles.

 

“Yeah, I know, darlin’,” he says, kissing Jim’s neck once more, before pulling back and sliding his fingers out. The whimper Jim makes is gratifying. “Turn over, I want to see your face, sweetheart.”

 

Jim turns slowly, blue eyes locking onto his own, smiling as he pants from exertion. His hand raises and makes contact with Leonard’s neck, pulling him down and kissing him, nuzzling into the side of his face.

 

“I love you,” Jim murmurs, eyes closed, looking completely content and happy. Leonard huffs out a laugh, and moves forward, grabbing his cock and bringing it to Jim’s fluttering hole.

 

“I love you too, darlin’,” he says, and waits until Jim opens his eyes and looks at him, his colours dancing around and filling the room, way beyond Jim’s own body. “Love you to the end of the universe and back. It’s just you, Jim – just me and you.” And pushes forward, watching as Jim’s mouth opens, a moan falling out, his eyebrows turning up in pleasure. But Jim’s eyes stay on him, stay gazing at him, love and tenderness and infatuation radiating up at him.

 

Leonard wonders if he’s projecting even half of what he feels to Jim.

 

Then Leonard’s moving, thrusting, Jim’s legs hiked up and locked around his waist, keeping him close. Jim kisses him, every time he can, every time he’s close enough, hands moving restlessly and sensually over Leonard’s body – and Leonard is doing the same, clutching at Jim’s biceps and waist, dropping a hand down to flick at a nipple, or thumb at Jim’s open mouth. They’re absorbed in each other, absorbed in colour, and he’s so fucking aroused that it hurts.

 

He moans, thrusting hard into Jim, who echoes a moan back at him. “Feels good, yeah?”

 

“Y-yeah, _fuck_ , Bones,” Jim’s breathless, moaning or gasping on almost every thrust now. Leonard swoops down to kiss him, gold puffing out when he finally releases Jim’s lips.

 

“Feels right?” He’s asking through clenched lips, the pleasure too good and too much, but wanting to hold on, hold on just for Jim.

 

“Oh fuck, _yeah_ , it does, god Bones, I – ah! – love you, nothing feels better.”

 

“Good, then c’mon, darlin’, give it to me,” he aims for Jim’s prostate deliberately now, getting it on first try. “Let it all go, lemme see you.”

 

He turns his head and captures Jim’s wrist, sucking at his _pisiform_ , nipping around the exposed area of Jim’s wrist. Jim whines high in his throat, and spurts all over their stomachs, without Leonard needing to apply a single touch to his cock. His thrusts speed up, chasing his own orgasm and closing his eyes, the pleasure thrumming through his entire body. A thumb and finger hooking onto his chin starts his eyes open, and he looks down at Jim’s sweating, happy-exhausted form. Jim’s grinning lazily, eyes half-closed, still panting. His blonde hair has darkened slightly from the sweat, sticking to his forehead. Jim pulls him in, kisses him deeply, before pulling away and chastely pressing soft lips to Leonard’s side of the mouth, left cheek, the tip of his nose, and then between his eyes.

 

“Bones,” Jim murmurs through a particularly breathy pant. “ _Leonard._ Come, now.”

 

Leonard moans, hips stuttering once, twice, before pushing forward one last time and spilling into Jim, watching as the purples and golds and rose-red pulse and wash over him. He doesn’t know what did it; the command, or hearing Jim use his name, his full, real name. Leonard buries his face into Jim’s neck, as Jim’s legs finally slip from his waist. He waits a moment, Jim carding soothing fingers through his hair and down slightly to the nape of his neck, before pulling out, listening to Jim’s soft groan at the loss.

 

Leonard gazes down at the man he loves, running fingers along his cheek. Jim catches them with his hand, and turns to press a kiss in the centre of Leonard’s palm, eyes twinkling and never leaving his own.

 

“I’ll get a washcloth, clean us up. We’ll need a shower tomorrow.”

 

“Mmm,” Jim replies, eyes sliding shut, still holding Leonard’s hand. “I look forward to it.”

 

Leonard chuckles, and forces himself out of bed to fetch a cloth, wetting it slightly and padding back into the bedroom, wiping down Jim’s front, and tenderly dabbing at the cum leaking out from his asshole. He’s not likely to get it up again tonight, but a twinge of lust still goes through him at the sight. A quick, cursory wipe down has him cleaned, and he tosses the cloth into the ‘fresher, sliding into bed next to Jim and throwing the covers over them both.

 

Jim rolls onto his side to face Leonard, a hand coming out and brushing over Leonard’s cheek and neck, tracing a path from his jaw to his lips, to his eyebrows. His colours have settled again, but they’re no less bright. There’s not a single trace of yellow.

 

“You alright?” Leonard whispers, because he wants to be sure. Jim smiles at him, a small thing, but a genuine one all the same.

 

“More than,” he returns, as quiet as Leonard. “I love you. I’m glad I decided to stop pussyfooting around and confront you.”

 

Leonard snorts quiet, Jim’s eyes crinkling at the sound.

 

“Confront me my ass.”

 

An eyebrow waggle. “ _You_ just had my ass.”

 

“Shut up,” Leonard says, but there’s no malice to it. “Don’t be an infant and let me enjoy my afterglow.”

 

Jim laughs, quiet, but no less beautiful, and Leonard feels himself melting. His heart flutters as he watches Jim yawn widely, jaw cracking. “C’mon, go to sleep, darlin’. You actually have a shift tomorrow.”

 

Jim’s side of the mouth turns up, blinking lazily, before closing his eyes, shuffling closer and snuggling up to Leonard's body, his face in the crook of Leonard’s neck. Leonard slings an arm around Jim, curling along his waist and up his back, tracing slow, idle patterns along the expanse of skin. Leonard closes his eyes, one last look at Jim’s peaceful and glowing face, and his gold and lilac swirling.

 

He drifts off to sleep, warm and content, with Jim nuzzling into his neck and his arm protectively around Jim, and satisfied that he and Jim will be alright. Until the end of the universe, they are. They’re alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are welcomed and loved -- so please! Drop one by! It lets me know that I should continue writing. Come and visit me at my [tumblr](http://www.gayspocks.tumblr.com), I adore new followers and friends :)


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